Feel Real

Chapter 1

Chapter One

I stood in between my mother and father. My younger brother, Sam, clung on my mother's arm. His eyes were full of tears and he occasionally wiped his nose on my mother's sleeve, leaving wet marks on her arm. I couldn't bear to look at my brother. His tears made me want to cry, but I didn't and couldn't. I stared in front of me with a blank, cold hearted expression of the inner bitch I was. Being here would suck but my parents knew it would be the best thing for me right now. Getting away from school was out of the question; my parents waited until summer to put me in here. Instead of tanning and going to the pool I would be confined in the compound of this institution. At least I would get away. That's all I ever wanted.

We had reached a lady who introduced herself as Rachael. She seemed nice enough, I'm sure I'll see enough of her at my stay here. Rachael talked to my parents about the rules of where I would be staying, confirmed why I was here, and went over guide lines. For me, this was a vacation. My parents had unknowingly given me three months of heaven. Sure, a trip to California would have been better, but, I could deal with the complete isolation of this place. I was a little concerned when they asked me to take everything off my body. It was a mental hospital though, don't want anyone killing themselves.

As I cleared my pockets and took off my shoes my mother and brother cried as my father held them. I have no idea why my mother was crying since it was her idea to put me in here. My father had no expression, his face stone hard and cold. I was much like my father: I kept my emotions to myself, not wanting to seem weak. Even at the most emotional points of my life I hadn't cried and neither had my father. I had never seen the man shed a tear in front of me and I had never shed a tear in front of him. We never had deep conversations, but we had a deep understanding and unspoken connection. 

On the other hand my mother and Sam were emotional wrecks. Sam was a mama's boy and I was a daddy's girl. It worked. It created balance within our family.

I rolled my eyes at my mother when I came back from dressing into sweats, a lose shirt, and slippers. My father shot me a glare. Although my father was emotionless, he always put me in order, making me be nicer to my mother. My mother and I didn't really connect. Try as she might but the woman would never be my best friend. 

My brother Sam was only six. I don't know why my parents had children with a eleven year age difference but I was happy he was around. Even though we were eleven years apart and he was a boy and I was a girl, he was the only person in my family I would miss. Sam would come into my room and listen to me complain about my problems and try and help me do homework. He never was any help but his presence and his understanding was more than I could ever ask for. Sam had to be the sweetest boy I had ever met and would ever meet. He accepted every person for who they were and never saw the negatives in life. I was almost jealous of Sam's ability to be so happy. Happiness was never an emotion I possessed. At least my parents would have one child they could be proud of. It sure as hell was not me, especially considering where I was right now.

My parents signed their last papers as I sat, expressionless and empty. Our goodbyes were coming soon and I was more than happy. They wouldn't be able to see me for two weeks at first;  then they were allowed to come in every week. I would enjoy these two weeks of silence like none other. Knowing my mother, whenever I see her she will bring gifts and end up crying. Friends would be allowed to see me after three weeks but I didn't want to see any of them, most of them were the reason I was in here in the first place; them and my mother. 

Rachael left the room saying she'd be back in five minutes, allowing us to say our goodbyes. My mother ran to me first, wrapping her arms around me and squeezing me so hard that I couldn't breathe. My arms lay limp at my sides but after my father shot me a glare I hung them loosely around my mother.

 "You are so gorgeous and you'll make it through these three months. You will get better and we will visit you as often as possible." My mother's grip choked me and all I wanted was to be released. She continued reassuring me--really herself--that everything would be okay. Then her words drowned in tears. My father pulled her back and held her in his arms. Then Sam came up to me. Snot ran down his nose and so did tears. I bent down and wiped his tears away with my thumb. The only person I would ever show emotion towards was Sam. His tears were a dagger to my heart and I held back tears of my own.

"Don't cry," I said. I titled his chin so he looked into my eyes. The look of sadness that filled his eyes made my throat tighten. I swallowed, staying strong, keeping my emotions to myself like always. "Only two weeks and then you'll get to see me again. I think you can handle that, right? You're strong."

He looked down and then back into my eyes. He said, barely audible, "Not as strong as you." His words tore my heart out. I wasn't strong and yet my brother thought I was. I pulled Sam into a tight hug and didn't let go, his head pressed against my shoulder, wetting it with tears. I could no longer keep my front up and let a tear roll down my cheek, only one tear.

Rachael walked in and I set Sam down. She gestured for me to follow her. I hugged my father and then hugged Sam one last time. The only person I would miss in here was Sam and this was our final goodbye for two weeks. The thought finally hit me like a jab to my stomach. My stomach twisted and I thought I would be sick; I didn't want to leave my brother.

I walked with Rachael down a long hall. I could hear my mother sob and Sam wail as I walked further and further away. My father held them both, acting as the rock, the stabilizer. The hall couldn't end soon enough, Sam's screams filling my head. Doubt crept into my mind. Was this the right choice? What would Sam do without me? But the choice was already made. For three months I would be isolated, only seeing family once a week. But I guess I agreed to it when I decided to go into a mental hospital.